


Behind the Mask

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [180]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Murder, One-Sided Attraction, Out of Character, Past Sexual Assault, Period Typical Attitudes, Possessive Tom Riddle, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “I think we could be friends, Miss Hitchens.”Dubiously, I repeated, “Friends?”“I believe you and I are remarkably similar.”“We arenot.”
Relationships: Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [180]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 5
Kudos: 212





	1. Behind the Mask

**Author's Note:**

> This is on the darker side of the stories I'd written so far. 
> 
> Also, trigger warning - there is mentions of sexual assault and abuse. It is more implicit in nature.

No matter how old I grew, or what I went through, I never changed. I reacted the same. Each time I was placed into an uncomfortable situation, I tried my very best to blend into the background and to hide away. Having long since learned just how disastrous the consequences of behaving in a different manner could be, I didn’t want unnecessary attention on me. Lingering eyes and searching looks always scraped against my skin like sharpened talons and sometimes, absentmindedly, I’d lift the sleeve of my shirt expecting to find a physical sign of their gaze. 

Right now, as I sat at the Slytherin table, I wanted nothing more than to run away. Hogwarts’s great hall was as magnificent as I’d heard and yet, I had no chance to admire it. Not when I was too preoccupied with keeping my head lowered towards my untouched plate of food so I didn’t accidentally catch eyes with those sitting around me. Those seated around me, dressed in green and silver, were naturally curious about me - they were wondering who the new student at their table was. It was strange for someone to start Hogwarts in their sixth year, even more so for that person to begin the year mere weeks before the summer term was drawing to a close and after exams had been completed. If I was in their position, I would’ve been as curious as they were.

But I wasn’t in their position, I was in mine. And as someone in my position, and dealing with everything that I was trying my best to keep secret, I wanted to just hide away. The girls around me, who were quick to introduce themselves, were overjoyed to discover that I would be taking the empty bed in their dorm room. I had the sinking feeling that they wanted to be friends - whether their desire for my friendship was honest or whether they just wanted to know my backstory remained to be seen. The girls, my dormmates, were quick to learn and settled into their own conversation, leaving the opportunity for me to say anything at any point. I didn’t speak a word. Instead, I continued to sit in silence with my hands gathered in my lap. They might’ve thought me odd, but they understood that I’d need some time to adjust. The last week had felt like a decade and I just needed time. 

“Hitchens?” one of the girls called out softly, prompting me to look up. She returned my gaze with soft eyes and I searched her features, trying to remember the name she’d introduced herself with and nothing came to mind. That too would take some time. Thankfully she needed no response from me and instead gestured to my untouched plate, “Aren’t you hungry? If you don’t like the food we can always stop by the kitchens and get you something?”

“No thank you.” Her eyebrows rose in surprise, actually surprised at getting a response from me. She didn’t need to know that this situation had my stomach tied in knots and that anything I ate right now would come right back up within a matter of minutes. “I’m not really hungry.” 

The girl, who I was beginning to realise was perhaps the self-assigned maternal figure of the sixth year girl’s, pursed her lips with concern. But, when she was drawn back into the conversation, she took a moment to insist that she was always free to talk whenever I wanted to. Only after I nodded did she turn towards one of the other girls. 

As dinner wrapped up, my new dormmates had taken it upon themselves to show me to the common room. I declined their offer, and when they looked offended and maybe a little judgemental, I gestured towards the still occupied teacher’s table at the top of the hall. 

“I need to speak to the Headmaster,” I said simply.

“We can wait -”

“Please don’t.” I softened my insistence with a faint smile that had them melting. It was the first one I’d given them. “I’m going to be a while. Please go back and relax. I’ll meet you there.”

Despite their reluctance, they headed out of the great hall, camouflaged amongst the crowd of students who were making their way towards their common rooms. I walked against the current, heading further into the hall until I stood a short distance away from the table of staff members who were all looking at me with inquisitive eyes. But they knew - I knew they knew. 

Thankfully, the headmaster was anticipating me. The moment I fisted my robes in my hands, he was pushing away from the table and coming down the few steps to join me. Resting a hand at the top of my arm, he led me over to the side with a warm smile. Once we were off to one side, I drew my arms together around my middle and his hand fell away from me.

“How are you finding it?” he asked, meeting my eyes with so much hope that I wondered how someone his age could be so naive. 

Instead, I said slowly and truthfully, “I wish I had started in my first year, Headmaster.”

Headmaster Dippet’s smile wavered then, eyes hardening and I knew he wished I too had started at the school when I should’ve. He had known me for so little time and yet he already had my best interests in heart. Dippet wanted the correct sort of childhood for me, not the one I had. 

“You don’t need to call me Headmaster when we’re alone,” he said, rather than saying anything else. 

What was I supposed to call him then? Was I meant to address him by his name? According to the ministry, he was the only person that could be my legal guardian. He was my fourth cousin - whatever that meant for the relationship we shared. Were we actually family? Or did we share just enough blood for the ministry to foist me off onto him?

The Headmaster turned away from me for a moment, gesturing someone over to join us. I followed his eyes, watching as one of the male Professors rose from the table, ambling over to join us with a pleased and eager smile on his face. Together, the two men stood in front of me and I looked between them. Was this yet another man being put in charge of my welfare? Like all the ones before him, I knew nothing about him and I couldn’t trust him from the off. Save for Dippet, each one before him had failed.

“This is Professor Slughorn,” Dippet introduced, gesturing to the man who was still smiling at me. “He’s the head of Slytherin house.”

“Nice to meet you, Professor.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Hitchens,” he said jovially and yet, he didn’t reach out to shake my hand like I was sure he wanted to. So he _knew_ and he was frightened or was uncertain if he could trust me. He swallowed uneasily, but insisted, “Please, come and find me if you need anything.” 

My answer was insincere, “I will. I should head back now …”

Dippet said instantly, “On your own? Are you sure you know your way?”

I’d learnt that he was unwilling to leave me to my own devices. I couldn’t be certain if this was because he was worried about what I would do if left on my own, or just he wanted to make sure that I knew I wouldn’t be left alone again. 

“I'm certain I can find my way back.”

“Don’t worry,” Slughorn piped up, gesturing towards a student who was lingering a short distance away. “I was supposed to be meeting with Mr Riddle, but perhaps he could walk Miss Hitchens back?”

I tried to protest, but before I could even say a single word, Slughorn and Dippet were both ushering over a boy dressed in robes similar to mine. He approached instantly, cutting a tall handsome figure as he came towards us. Like everyone before him, his eyes were looking over me with curiosity that he made no attempts to hide. Only, his curiosity seemed a little more … shrewd than anyone else’s. 

“Professor,” the student said when he joined us. He inclined his head towards Dippet, “Headmaster.” When his eyes shifted towards me, I looked back towards my guardian who was smiling approvingly at the student, like this chosen student met the silent standards he had in his head. “Miss -”

“Hitchens,” I supplied, without turning to him because I didn’t want to meet the eyes that were trained on me. It would be polite to look at him, and yet, I didn’t want to. Dippet, realising this, frowned but only for a second. He understood, after all.

“Tom, my boy,” Professor Slughorn started, clapping the student on his shoulder, “I know we were supposed to meet to discuss matters, but could you walk Miss Hitchens back to the common room?”

“Of course.” _Tom_ inclined his head with a polite smile. I turned slowly, looking at the student who was now looking at his Professors with an easy grace - fake. He didn’t want to walk me back, and he didn’t want to skip the meeting. But he wore a good mask. Over the years I’d honed the ability of looking passed the masks people wore and I could tell he wasn’t pleased. Still, he said, “I’ll show Miss Hitchens back.”

“Thank you, Mr Riddle,” Dippet said, taking his leave and returning to the seat he’d previously abandoned. 

Slughorn lingered a moment longer, squeezing Riddle’s shoulder and promising, “I’ll drop by the common room before curfew so we can still meet.”

“Thank you, Professor.” 

Slughorn took his leave then, following after Dippet and leaving me with Riddle. I stood silently beside my fellow Slytherin, hoping he wouldn’t say a word and would just lead me back to the common room even though I was fairly certain that I knew my way back. Without a word, he gestured for me to follow after him and I matched his steps one at a time as we made our way out of the great hall. Eyes lowered towards the ground, I found myself looking at his shoes and couldn’t help but wonder if he was walking this slowly on purpose. Was he going out of his way to inconvenience me because I was the reason he missed his scheduled meeting time? I said nothing, knowing that I tended to see the worst in people, that I’d been exposed to the worst in people and it was something I needed to change. 

Once we made it out of the main corridor, Riddle finally turned his head towards me. Even without looking at him I knew he was studying me. I kept walking forward, refusing to match his eyes or even to say a thing. He could think whatever he wanted. I certainly wouldn’t give him any answers. 

“Miss Hitchens,” he started, voice smooth and polite. There was a long pause and he still said nothing. I thought he would leave it at that, but I made the mistake of glancing towards him. It was the prompt he needed, “Where did you study before joining Hogwarts?”

“I didn’t.” Even when Riddle’s brows pulled together, I said simply, “I was taught at home.”

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something but we finally reached the right corridor. I quickened my paces, approaching the entrance and planning to leave him behind. Not that I could. He finally used his long legs and easily met my speed. We reached the entrance and I waited for him to announce the password. 

He didn’t.

Tom Riddle continued to stand in front of me, looking like he wanted to say something to me. But, with the intense and intrigued way he was looking at me, there was no guessing just what he was going to ask of me. Before he had the opportunity to say anything, I peered around him. 

“Porlock.”

With the entrance revealed, I ducked past Riddle who followed after me. I didn’t look back to see if he was still watching me, I certainly didn’t want to give him the chance to ask me any more questions. All I wanted was to head up to my dorm room and maybe, for a short time, I could pretend to be a normal student and get to know my dormmates. 

* * *

With the school year coming to a close, the students were preparing to return home for the summer. The final week of the term had consisted of my dormmates nipping this way and that as they gathered all of their things that had been scattered across the dorm during the year. The room was so busy that I couldn’t sit at my own bed to watch them as they went, I couldn’t get a moment of peace. Salazar, the common room was no better. Apparently, one of the first years happened to lose their toad and the prefects had taken it upon themselves to turn the entire common room upside down in search of this pet.

With the end of the term finally here, the students were all gathered in the common room, packed so closely together that I found myself brushing up against my dormmates each time I shifted even a little bit too far in one direction. My dormmates apparently had the foresight of snagging one of the sofas and dragging me down beside them. Despite my protests, I found myself sitting between two of them as the house waited for Slughorn to arrive. The head of the house would be checking names off against the register to make sure that everyone was here and waiting to be escorted out of the school for the last time this year. 

When Professor Slughorn finally made his appearance, the sight of him had the students by the door falling silent. Like a ripple, the students stopped talking with those at the back of the common room being the last to stop speaking. They all looked expectantly towards Slughorn who was beaming at the students and started his speech with words of congratulations for the hard work Slytherin house had put into winning the House Cup. On either side of me, my dormmates were looking at Slughorn with rapt attention, and I knew, from an absentminded comment Reynolds had made that last year someone’s name had been left off the list and because they hadn’t been paying attention they’d been stranded for a day whilst the staff scrambled to make arrangements to get them home. 

Coming to the end of his speech, Slughorn unrolled a long piece of parchment and the slight murmurs that had started up during his speech died down once more. It took some time, but Slughorn made his way through the list of students, calling the names out twice, and sometimes more, when there was no response and only proceeding when he got an affirmative response. Reaching the bottom of the parchment and ticking off the final name, Slughorn rolled the parchment up and sent it away with a flick of his wand. 

He turned, preparing to leave the room but stopping to remind the prefects that they were expected to report to him before Slytherin house made their way to the carriages. As the chatter picked up around the common room, my dormmates stood and prepared to leave the common room. 

“Are you sure you’re not supposed to come?” Reynolds asked, standing and looking down at me with confused eyes. 

“I’m not taking the train,” I said simply and then before I could say anything else, I was hauled to my feet and found myself in a five-person embrace. 

For a moment, I was frozen, my arms stuck at my side and uncertain of how to respond before I felt the tension ease out of me. These girls were real - they actually wanted to be my friends. For some reason, despite all the frostiness I’d given them, they cared for me and expected nothing in return. Finally lifting my arms, I wrapped my arms around the two nearest to me and held them. I struggled to remember the last time I’d been held in an embrace that held no malice.

When we drew apart, I stayed back, reclaiming my space on the sofa and watching as the students finally made their way out of the common room. My dormmates, when they made their way to the front of the common room, gave me a final wave that I returned with a smile. 

I would wait a little longer, just until everyone had left the common room before returning upstairs to my dorm. But, there was no need to head upstairs, not right away anyway, because there wasn’t anyone standing around and waiting for a chance to sit down. I’d have the common room to myself and Merlin - it wasn’t appealing. When I’d first started at Hogwarts, I’d looked forward to the summer holiday and the time alone. And yet, in the space of a few short weeks, I knew the weeks were going to be lonely. Although, I should’ve been used to it by now.

The common room was now considerably empty, with only a handful of students remaining. As they went, they gave me curious looks but continued on their way, unwilling to miss their train because of their interest.

“Miss Hitchens.” The simple greeting, short and polite, had me turning to face Riddle who lingered, remaining. It appeared that he had been the prefect chosen to bring up the rear to make sure that no one was left behind. 

“Mr Riddle,” I greeted in turn, watching as he approached the sofa, standing beside the arm and looking imperiously down at me. 

He turned his head, searching the common room and finding a group of first-years who were reluctant to leave. Abruptly, he asked them, “Do you plan on missing the train?”

The first years, surprised but consenting, were quick to rush out of the common room. Now that we were left alone, Riddle turned his eyes once more to me. I didn’t have it in me to hold his eyes, but I looked into his face when he tried to catch my eyes. 

Eventually, he said, “Your name wasn’t on the list.”

My first instinct was to ask if he had been listening out for my name amongst the long list. But, he was waiting and although it wasn’t a question, I said, “It wasn’t.” 

“Surely not -” His eyes narrowed. “Surely you aren’t staying in the castle over the summer?”

“Can I not?”

“Why?” It was a simple question, one that was meant to express his curiosity and yet, I couldn’t help but hear some resentment there. He wasn’t the only person who was jealous that I got to remain here whilst they did not. “What reason warrants your remaining presence?”

It was a question I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t bring myself to answer. So I didn’t. I didn’t owe Riddle anything. Instead, I just inclined my head and said, “You’re going to miss the train.”

And Riddle, who continued to stand over me, looked down at me with his mask once more in place. He was the epitome of the perfect role model, regarding me with what to anyone on the outside would see as polite regard. “Have a good summer, Miss Hitchens.” 

* * *

With the academic year once more underway, the students had returned to the castle and the summer holiday seemed like a short respite. The castle was brimming with noise again and the hallways were filled once more with students who were settled back into their second home. It took me surprisingly little time to get used to having everyone back. Rather, it was all too easy to settle into my dorm and listen to my dormmates as they regaled me with tales of what they’d done over their holiday. For a short time, I could pretend that I was like them, that I was just another seventh-year student, settling in for their final year at Hogwarts. I let the fantasy cloud my judgement for the short time before reality once more caught up to me. 

All it took was a letter from the ministry to shatter the illusion I’d let myself seek comfort in and everything came crumbling down. In the end, it culminated in my missing the first day of lessons for a trial. The Headmaster, my legal guardian, had tried to give me some sort of comfort during the entire process, not that he was largely successful. Still, I was grateful for his determined presence at my side; he stuck right beside me at every moment, the way so few people had. It was gratitude that I’d never be able to express in words, so I didn’t. I didn’t think I needed to, not from the way Headmaster Dippet smiled at me when I was declared innocent and we returned to the castle under the cover of darkness. 

“What,” I stopped still, looking at the Headmaster who came to still at hearing me beginning a conversation for the first time today. He turned towards me, considering me from over his shoulder as I held my hands nervously at my side. Given the result, I should’ve been relieved at my innocence, I should’ve been grateful for the lack of punishment and yet, I wasn’t relieved. I was nervous and scared of what would happen next. I was terrified that the stability I’d finally found would be ripped away from me. Clearing my throat, I asked, “What happens now?”

“Now?” Headmaster Dippet repeated like he didn’t understand. “Now, you remain in Hogwarts and complete your education. Anything else can be discussed at a later date, for now, get some sleep.” 

Nodding in agreement, I thanked the Headmaster and prepared to continue on my way to the common room. I expected Dippet to retire for the night, to return to his chambers, but he dropped into step beside me. As we continued to walk towards the Dungeons, Dippet explained that if I walked with him he could speak to any prefects about why I was out so late. I waited until we got to the common room and then I thanked the Headmaster, hoping he knew that I meant it for so much more than for just walking me back.

“You should retire for the night,” he said in such a way that I was certain he knew what remained unsaid. 

Making my way into the common room, I found it practically empty with most of the students having headed up to their rooms for the night. The few students who were still sitting and awake shot me curious looks, wondering why I’d missed the welcoming feast. But apart from that, they paid me no mind. My novelty had quickly worn out at the end of the sixth year and I was welcoming it. Hopefully, when the truth got out - and it always did - the novelty would quickly wear off once more. After the events of the day, I didn’t have it in me to face the questioning I’d get from my dormmates so I settled in front of the fire. I’d just sit here for a little longer, just long enough to come up with some sort of explanation for today, but I just needed the time to think. 

Stretching my legs in front of me, I crossed them at the ankle and breathed out so harshly that I emptied my lungs until they screamed. Drawing in another breath, I let the relief course through my veins at last. Now that I didn’t have to worry about what I would do - at least until July - I could let myself be relieved. Innocent - the word echoed through my head. 

“Miss Hitchens,” the call of my name brought me from my thoughts with a resounding screech. My eyes, tired but clear, turned towards the entrance where Riddle had walked in. He approached where I was sitting, and I wanted nothing more than to leave him far behind. Over the summer, Riddle had been but a random blip in my mind, and yet, now that he drew closer I could see the curiosity in his eyes. The last thing I wanted was to satisfy the curiosity of a boy who believed he was entitled to much more than he really was. I was done with men believing they were entitled to a part of me that I did not want to give.

Finally, he came to stand in front of me. Riddle stood so close that if he wanted, he would only have to rock forward for his shoes to brush against the soles of mine. Drawing my legs towards me, I brought them so close they rested against the sofa and looked up at Riddle, waiting. Although, he said nothing, appearing content to just watch me. 

Lacking his patience, I spoke first, “Why are you still awake, Riddle?”

Pointing to the badge pinned to his robes, he said, “I’m coming back from rounds.”

My eyes flickered for a moment, long enough to read ‘Head Boy’ before looking away from him. I hoped he would take the hint and leave, perhaps he would believe me to be rude and I wouldn’t mind if that were true. But, of course, I had no such luck - I had been unlucky my entire life. 

“You were absent for the welcoming feast,” he started steadily and the words were enough to bring my eyes to meet his. His gaze was probing and insistent, still, I didn’t look away. Not yet. “Strangely enough, neither was the Headmaster. The students claim he is your legal guardian.”

Instead of wondering just _how_ the school was aware that Dippet was my legal guardian, I asked, “Why does it concern you?”

“It does not.” He said the truth simply before adding, “I am, however, the Head Boy and it is my duty to have the welfare of the students in mind.” 

“Still,” I said abruptly, standing so quickly it took him by surprise. His eyebrows rose a fraction but he still looked at me, even when I edged around him, preparing to walk to my dorm room. “You may be the Head Boy, but this doesn’t concern you.”

I expected him to rebut, to say something to make his point stick. Certainly, in lessons, he always wanted to get his point across, but he said nothing. Not when I took my leave of him without another word, and not when I crossed the common room to leave him behind. When I was far enough, I hesitated and instead of heading to my dorm, I peeked back to get one last sign of him. He remained where I’d left him, looking the picture of calm but I could see him clenching his jaw. 

I was right - he wasn’t what he wanted everyone to think he was.

* * *

Despite how little time I’d spent at Hogwarts, I knew that news spread quickly around the school. And yet, despite knowing that, I certainly hadn’t expected _my_ news to spread so quickly, not overnight. I’d anticipated and hoped for - _prayed for_ \- at least a week or so of respite. I needed that week of post-trial relief to calm my own nerves before facing the onslaught of lingering stares and barely audible whispers. I wasn’t granted such a privilege. Merlin, given the pattern of my life, I should’ve known that it would never happen. 

In the morning, I’d woken up and joined my dormmates at breakfast, listening to the conversations that I’d missed because of the trial. For the first time since I’d known them, I let myself laugh and smile as I wanted to, with such carefree abandon that I knew it would be strange. Xavier had even cut herself off halfway through telling us about her newborn niece to enquire about my health - she insisted that it was good to see me smiling and happy but it was also concerning her a little. I’d just laughed in response and beckoned for her to continue with her story. But it didn’t last long. 

My ears were quick to pick up on murmurs coming further down the table at the sound of my surname. Just like that, my attention drifted from Xavier and instead, I was listening in on a conversation a group of fourth years were sharing - and heard them mention Dippet standing as a witness at a trial - thankfully they had no mention of _what_ the trial was for - but still, they knew. They _knew_ about my trial and I breathed in shakily. 

It was too soon - 

How could they - 

Reynolds reached across the table, putting her hand on top of mine and asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Fine.” The word came out strangled and yet I couldn’t say anything else. What was there to say? 

Reynolds and Xavier shared a look, likely wondering the change in my mood but I wouldn’t tell them about it. They would find out about it by themselves once the gossip had continued to circulate around the school. Perhaps, if we were alone in the safety of our dorm, I could have confessed to them the truth about what happened last night - not the whole truth, I didn’t think they were ready for the whole truth. Not many - _no one_ was. But at least I could tell them the story from my side. It was a side so few people wanted to hear. 

“I need to speak to Professor Slughorn,” I lied steadily, reaching for my school bag and picking it up. When it seemed like they were going to protest or express more concern for me, I spoke over them, “I’ll see you in Potions.”

Standing from the table, I adjusted my bag and walked away from the table. I wanted to quicken my paces, to run out of the hall and leave the whispers far behind. But running away, actually running away would only bring more unwanted attention to me. It was already bad enough that I could hear the whispers growing louder and more frequent. It was already beginning and I could only begin to imagine the sort of questions that were going to be sent my way. 

Instead of making my way straight to the Potions lab, I took the long way around, taking all the corridors that were usually deserted so I didn’t have to run into anyone. It worked. The path, although far longer than it needed to be, was less travelled and I didn’t bump into anyone. By the time I reached the potions lab, other classmates had arrived and I faltered for a moment when I realised that the two boys who were preparing to enter the classroom were looking at me. I thought I was too self-absorbed, but then they went so far as to actually gesture towards me and I clutched at the strap of my bag. I would have to get used to this. It would only become more frequent. 

I took the time to steady myself, to breath in deeply and released the death grip I had on my bag strap. Lifting my chin, I forced myself to take one step after the other and finally entered the classroom. Each step took tremendous effort to fight against my instinct to run away, but I forced myself forward. Yesterday Dippet had insisted that it was important for me to push forward and I would have to start now.

Walking into the classroom and passing the occupied tables, I happened to spy Reynolds and Xavier who were already sitting there. Upon seeing me, they exchanged confused looks, more so when I ignored the open space at the table behind them and took a seat at the back of the room. Settling down and putting my bag onto the seat beside me, I reached in to fish out everything I needed for the lesson. 

As I drew my quill and inkwell out from my bag, a throat cleared from beside my table. Lifting my head, my eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of Riddle standing patiently in front of me. Already I knew that most people wanted to stay away from me - a trial couldn’t he good and they didn’t want to be wrapped up in that - but here he stood before me, preparing to take a seat that was _not_ his usual one. 

“Miss Hitchens?” he prompted, gesturing to my bag in a silent request for me to move it. I almost refused and I would have if Slughorn hadn’t taken his position at the front of the classroom, preparing to start his lesson. 

Left with no choice, I removed my bag and set it onto the floor. Riddle took the spare seat, gathering his own things and I resolutely looked ahead. I did my best to listen to Slughorn as he started his introductory lecture, and yet, my eyes continued to flicker towards Riddle. I expected to find him looking at me, to say something to me but he wasn’t. His eyes were focused ahead as if all his attention was reserved for Slughorn. 

Just as I allowed myself to settle in and for the tension to ease from my shoulders, Riddle spoke up. His voice was a steady whisper, even as he faced forward not even looking away from Slughorn as he took notes. “I may not know much about magical law, but it makes sense for a legal guardian to be called in as the witness to the trial of their ward.” 

I lacked his composure. Turning to face him, my eyes burned into the side of his face even as he kept his calm, “What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing.” He finally turned then, meeting and holding my eyes. I kept my face deliberately blank, even when he offered me a smile - the very smile I’d heard Reynolds swoon over. Pleasant as ever, and with a voice as smooth as chocolate, he said, “I think we could be friends, Miss Hitchens.” 

Dubiously, I repeated, “Friends?”

“I believe you and I are remarkably similar.”

“We are _not_.” 

* * *

The news was circulating through the castle, with very little truth to it. Eventually, the truth would come out. But as of now, the castle was content to use their imagination to fill in the gaps of what they did not know. It would have been a harmless happening, and I would have passed it off as nothing if I had not been the one at the centre of all the contemplation. A few brave individuals had taken it upon themselves to approach me, wanting to know - and believing themselves entitled - to the truth as if it wouldn’t split me in half to speak my truth. So I hid. 

I retreated to the library and lost myself in my school work, knowing that the librarian had such a tight rein on her domain that no one would think to start pressuring me into answering questions I didn’t want to. I was content to focus on my academic work because, for the first time in my life, I actually had the time to do so. I could work on my essay without my mind delving further into inner turmoil because I had more things to be worrying about. 

My hard-won and extremely rare peace was all too quickly shattered when I found myself surrounded by the seventh year Slytherin boys. The boys congregated as one, taking the empty seats at my table in a move that was too purposeful to have been a coincidence. Still, I was reluctant to address them, even as they saw fit to begin a conversation about what they had done during their summer away from the school. 

With my head lowered towards my parchment, I struggled not to roll my eyes when Nott, the arrogant sod, began to regale the table with tales of the hunting expeditions he went on with Malfoy. He spoke with overly long words, trying to make his escapades sound as heroic and legendary as a tale from the life of Merlin himself. When he finally brought his story to a close, with him somehow single handedly bringing a deer to its knees, I struggled not to scoff. What did they know? They were only boys. It seemed I’d failed to keep my contempt to myself. 

“Miss Hitchens?” Malfoy, with all the politeness that had been bred into him over multiple generations, called out with a sniff. Lifting my head, I met his waiting eyes with silent exasperation, “Is something the matter?”

Something _was_ the matter and yet, I didn’t owe them any explanation. I could keep everything to myself and just return to my work. But I couldn’t be certain _why_ they had approached me in the first place. There had to have been some reason and after days of being silent, I no longer had it in me to look the other way. 

“You are so proud for having killed an animal,” I said steadily, casting a glance towards Nott whose eyes were narrowed. “Nott is proud and the rest of you offer your congratulations as if such an act of brutality deserves the applause.”

“Well,” Nott said, not appreciating my words, “would you have been able to kill it?”

“An animal?” I checked before shaking my head. “Why would I needlessly murder an animal that cannot fight back? If I enjoyed the senseless murder, what would that say about me?”

Abruptly ending the conversation, I returned once more to my abandoned essay. The essay, one Slughorn would accept in our next Potions lesson was almost finished, all I had to do was write the final conclusion. Brushing the feathered end of my quill back and forth against my cheek, I contemplated how to begin the conclusion when I happened to hear a single word, firm and leaving no room for disagreement.

“Leave.” Riddle - it was Riddle, who I hadn’t paid attention to after his initial arrival at the table. 

For the shortest of moments, I thought he was speaking to me, and just as I prepared to demand why I had to leave, I held myself back. He was speaking to his dormmates, dormmates who were quick to gather their things upon receiving his order - because it was clearly an order - and left the table. Casting a glance across the table, I realised we were left alone and Riddle took the opportunity to slide into the chair directly across from mine. 

“You would not kill an animal,” he said, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his seat. He made no effort to make it seem like he was working. Riddle tilted his head, considering me closely, “What is the worst you’d kill then?”

“Why does that intrigue you?”

“It was a conversation you began,” he said as if it was true. I wanted to point out that it was one of his friends that had started the conversation and yet, I didn’t. What did it matter? The truth would all come out. When Riddle leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the tabletop and considering me as if I was something of intrigue. There was a smile, slight and almost malicious, playing at the corner of his lips. “You would not kill an animal, Miss Hitchens. But what would you kill?”

It was bound to happen - it was eventually going to come out. Dippet had taken me aside just this morning to let me know that there was an article in the works that he was trying his best to block but he would eventually fail to do so. That was just the inevitable truth. What did it matter if I told him a little earlier? Especially if that truth would scare him away and smother his curiosity. 

“A man,” I said, knowing he could hear the ring of truth in my words. 

If Riddle cared to study me, he would find no sign of deception and yet he didn’t believe me. If he did believe me, he would have drawn away or express some sort of disgust or fear at the declaration. Instead, he continued to watch me, and to my uttermost surprise, he looked at me as if I was the most intriguing puzzle that had ever been presented to him. In the end, I was the one to draw back, to press as far against the back of my chair as I could. 

“Perhaps I should reintroduce myself. I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Riddle started, extending a hand out across the table towards me. 

With narrowed eyes, I considered his hand and said nothing. Hesitantly and if only to end this exchange, I reached out to take his hand. It should have been a quick moment of contact and yet, it wasn’t. Riddle held my hand tight in his, holding my eyes and peering so deep into my soul that I felt his probing like a blunt blow in my mind. 

“You were speaking the truth,” he breathed out, awed and perhaps even a little … thrilled.

Forcefully drawing my hand away from his and gathering my things, I ignored the heavy beating of my heart. My hands shook as I tidied up and picked up my bag. Turning and preparing to flee, I walked quickly out of the library. I was caught the moment I left the library and I _knew_ he’d bade his time until I left the library because the librarian would have interceded if he’d caught me before. 

Struggling against Riddle’s hands, I took in a shaking breath and shuddering whimper as I found myself pushed against the cool stone wall. I shook my head harshly, beating back the memories that threatened to overwhelm me, the ghost of hands clinging to my arms and reaching for the buttons of my clothes - 

“Hitchens,” his voice was softer, far softer than I’d ever heard him use but it cut through all the horror. 

Still, I kept my eyes averted from Riddle, even as I shoved at his chest, “How _dare_ you force your way into my mind like that?” 

He made no attempt to justify his behaviour, even as he soothed, “I understand what it must be like for you, Hitchens, to have people doing things to you without your consent and not being able to protect yourself -”

“Don’t,” it came out as a whimper. Shaking my head, I couldn’t look at Riddle who remained close to me, his head lowered towards mine as he continued to speak earnestly. Now he knew - 

“You’re so _vulnerable_.” He moved to approach me but my hands were out instantly, preparing to push him away. My eyes, wild and frightened, flittered up towards his to find them patient and open. He held his arms up, moving away from me. Still, he held my eyes as he promised, “You would _never_ have to worry about anything of the sort with me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I understand,” he said, holding my eyes for a moment longer before he turned and walked down the corridor. “But in time, I will prove it to you.”

Left alone with my terrified mind, I pressed myself as close to the wall as possible. He knew so much more than I’d ever planned on telling him. 

* * *

After days of Riddle’s words echoing in my head, I found myself sitting in Defence, listening to our Professor as he attempted once more to drill into us the importance of having a good understanding of defensive spells given the current political climate. Besides, who knew what sort of experiences were going to find us during our lives - at that point, I was certain that the Professor sent a pointed but pitying look my way. Without a word, I just used the long sleeves of my robes to hide my fists, hoping to still look composed as I faced forward. 

No one needed to know that after a day of dodging questions about the man I had murdered - my victim - I was close to losing my composure. I wanted nothing more than to ask how he could be my victim when he had been an abuser? How could he be the victim when it had been my body that bore the brunt of his anger? I had been the one defiled and corrupted, not him. 

But, I was drawn from those thoughts when Riddle, with a single question, had managed to shift the direction of the lesson. It took only one well thought out question from the Head Boy who sat at the desk in front of mine, to have the Professor discussing Occlumency and Legilimency with the class. Straightening my spine, I leaned forward slightly on my desk in my eagerness to learn. I might have been paying little attention to the lesson before, but now I was all ears. This was all the information I desperately needed and wanted to know. It would help me protect my mind from curious people and no one could make me tell them something that I didn’t want to share with them. 

Since the last conversation I’d shared with Riddle, it had all I’d been thinking of. The potential of being able to learn something to protect myself was always, _always_ alluring. It was so tempting to be able to learn something that would stop someone from taking advantage of me in that way. Yet - I knew what Riddle wanted in return. I would be a fool not to. He could try to deny it, but he looked at me in a way that men had been looking at me for years now. There was always the chance that the defence Professor would teach me if I asked, but on the rare chance they agreed, they would go to Dippet. And this was something I did _not_ want Dippet to know. The moment he knew was the moment he came up to me to get a better understanding of the broken ward that he’d been given by the ministry. 

I knew that if I approached Riddle, he would teach me as long as I agreed to his conditions. He would agree and he wouldn’t feel the need to talk to my guardian about it at any point. Except, he wanted _me._ On one hand, the Professor would talk to Dippet and on the other, Riddle wanted me. Although he didn’t seem like the romantic sort. But he wanted me regardless. I’d had men want me before and act on it against my will - it was all I knew and yet, Riddle would be the first person I consented to. He would be the first one I chose. 

When the lesson ended, I remained in an uncertain daze, struggling to come to a decision. Both sides had consequences and I had to weigh them up. Around me, my classmates packed their things up and I was slow to do the same. Closing my textbook and putting it into my bag, my eyes searched the classroom. I found who I was looking for. 

Riddle was one of the first to pack his things, preparing to leave but he lingered. He remained near the front of the classroom where his friends were gathered around him. But were they really his friends? They didn’t tend to act like friends? Over Nott’s shoulder, Riddle met my eyes and nodded just once and remained where he was, even when his dormmates prepared to leave. It was like he was waiting. And I knew what he was waiting for.

Still, I did not approach him. Gathering my bag and slinging it onto my shoulder, I looked back to Riddle. Just as I’d made up my mind to go to him, he was walking out of the classroom.

Reynolds, my deskmate for the lesson, nudged me with her shoulder and I didn’t offer her any explanation. Instead, I listened and followed after her as we walked out of the classroom. On the way out, we thanked our Professor and continued through the hallway. We made it halfway down when I spied Riddle waiting by an alcove and with a single hand, he gestured for me to join him. From the way Reynolds looked sharply - _excitedly_ \- towards me, I knew she’d caught it. Her mind was likely coming up with all sorts of scandalous situations. 

“Go ahead of me,” I said simply to her as we continued on our way down the corridor, coming closer to Riddle.

Just before we reached his earshot, she whispered excitedly, “You have to tell me everything.”

“There is nothing to tell,” I insisted, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes when I stopped in front of Riddle and hse continued past him.

Over his shoulder, Reynolds turned to face me, giving me a teasing smile and then faced forward once more. I waited until she turned the corner before looking back to Riddle who waited patiently to be addressed. Without bothering for pleasantries, I walked further into the alcove and knew he would follow after me - the last thing we needed was for nosy ears to be paying attention to our conversation. 

“You could teach me?” I double-checked, lifting my eyes towards Riddle’s.There was no need to make false conversation. His gaze was insistent and I held them - he could search my mind and he would find nothing. He knew it all already so what else was there to hide? At least he had the decency to not ransack my mind in a show of good faith. 

“I could.” He was so certain that my doubts flitted away. “But you understand what I require?”

Silently, I nodded. And he knew it was enough. Even though I hadn’t verbalised it, he understood that my consent, though silent was honest. I meant it and because I’d meant it, I finally said, “And I agree.” 

It was all he needed. He moved towards me then, approaching as if to crowd me into the wall but my wand was there, jutting into his stomach to stop him from getting any closer. Riddle’s eyebrows rose, before he looked down at my wand, only to return his eyes to my own.

Stony faced, I reminded him, “You’ve read the article - you know what I did to someone the last time they touched me without my consent.” 

“And _you_ know,” he maintained steadily, lowering his head until it was closer to mine, “that you would never have to worry about that with me. If you cannot believe it now, learn from me first and then you can search my mind. It’s a privilege I’ll grant only to you.”

He remained close to me then, even as I watched him for a long moment. And then, gathering my nerves, I removed my wand and stuffed it in my pocket. Reaching for him, I grasped his shirt in two hands and drew him towards me. Riddle waited until I lifted my head towards him and lowered his own to meet me halfway. I screwed my eyes shut, nerves rattling in my head, even as he sighed out against my mouth. He didn’t push it further and my nerves abated. It was early days, but I could trust him. 

* * *

Upon formally enrolling at Hogwarts, the Professors were quick to comment on my intellect - of course, it was always followed by a murmur of the wasted potential, that if I had been enrolled sooner then who knew where I would have been right now. I’d accepted those words with a forced smile that was meant to keep back barbed comments that not being enrolled certainly hadn’t been my choice. They’d labelled me as an intelligent and competent witch and I’d accepted it, assimilating the comment into my identity. Only, I couldn’t be so certain anymore.

If I was as intelligent as they claimed and if I had the potential they all commented on, then surely I would have picked up on this sooner? If they had been telling me the truth, then there would be no need for what was now the two dozenth meeting in this abandoned classroom with Riddle trying to teach me how to keep him out from probing into my mind. I wasn’t naive enough to think that it was something I would pick up easily - there was a reason so few people were capable of doing it - but yet, should it have taken _so_ long? 

“You’re an intelligent witch, it should not be taking you this long.” Riddle, like he was reading my mind, spoke from behind me. I knew he was _not_ reading my mind because he was sitting behind me and had no way of looking into my eyes. He had me wondering if I was so obvious that he simply knew me that well. And if I was so readable, how ever was I able to hide anything from the rest of the castle?

“Many wizards are incapable of doing this,” I defended as I slumped back against the nearest table. It dug into my back, but I remained standing straight, recovering from the mental strain of trying and failing to block Tom’s repeated mental attacks. 

“How do you plan on ever achieving anything if you hold yourself to the same standard as others?” he wondered and I made a face he couldn’t see. 

I heard a chair scrape as he stood and straightened my face out, making it the picture of composure. Casting a look over my shoulder, I spied Tom as he approached me and strengthened my shoulders, preparing for what was sure to come. It didn’t come, not right away. 

Riddle took his time to round my front, standing before me with his hands tucked into his pockets. He continued to stand there, head tilted to one side and considered me with narrowed eyes, trying to work over the puzzle I presented him. Even when I held his eyes, defiant and daring him to try once more, he made no efforts to push through what I was sure were the fragile defenses of my mind. 

“My love,” he called out, the term of endearment one he showered upon me whilst out amongst our peers. It was not affectionate - it was a mark of possession, I knew that. And yet, it did something funny to my heart. Even if, whilst we were alone, I could more clearly hear the ownership those two words contained. 

His hand twitched at his side and he raised it, holding it out before him but not touching me, not yet. It was something he did - he always waited for permission, even in situations where he was uncertain of if I’d ever grant him it. And there were times where I refused him, where I could not have him touch me and like the ever understanding beau, he relented. He was the perfect partner - understanding and respectful and perhaps most surprisingly, protective. Already, I had lost count of the number of times Riddle had engaged in a duel for the sake of my name. The truth of my ordeals had labelled me as broken - as unchaste, and regardless of the fact that none of it had been my choice, I was labelled as beneath him - a whore, even. Riddle always set such rumours straight - winning him the respect of the teachers and granting him perhaps even more privileges than before. 

Even now, as he waited patiently, I could see the lingering bruises on his knuckles. It was only a few days ago when he’d acted muggle enough to hit a Gryffindor who was unwise enough to keep talking even after the Professor had disarmed them both. Tom Riddle had lost the reputation of being unflappable and yet, he’d earned so much more respect from his peers. Although many did wonder how it took only a mere _girl_ to make him angry. 

He continued to wait, just until I gave a single sharp nod. And then he breathed out an exhale I would have missed had I not been looking for it before stepping towards me, His palm, warm and soft, followed the curve of my cheek, lifting my face towards his as Tom took a step closer to me. Neither of us moved, simply standing there, sharing brushes of our eyes. 

“It would be so easy to take advantage of you like this,” he reminded his words a viper’s caress. With gritted teeth, I tried my best to keep him out, fortifying the mental walls that were meant to keep him out. But once more, I failed. His presence was large and attention-catching in my head, intending to let me know that once more I’d failed to keep him out. 

Sighing out my annoyance, I stepped away from him, bumping into the table at my back. Riddle took that as his cue, moving away from me and giving me the space I needed. 

“I can’t do it,” I sighed, dropping my head with an annoyed exhale. 

“You’re not trying properly,” he said as if _he_ was the one who was using everything inside of him to try and keep someone out. He spoke so knowingly that it was infuriating as if he had some secret insight into my own capabilities that I didn’t have.

“You don’t know that.”

He didn’t combat my words. Instead, he rocked back onto his heels before planting his feet firmly once more on the ground. He was back to considering me, “Just how was Dippet assigned to be your guardian?”

“I was wondering when you would ask me that.”

“I assume there must be a familial connection there?” 

“Distant family.” Without expanding further, I asked, “And you? Your family?” 

“There is no family, just me.” It was my turn to consider him - he didn’t say it with the same longing that I knew I did. He spoke as if he was talking about a missing quill and nothing more, as if family was as insignificant as that. “For now, it is just me.” 

“But your friends?” I prompted; I didn’t know why, but I wanted him to speak of something - or some people - with affection. Maybe not even affection, just that they were important to him in some way. There had to be someone in his life, someone who wasn’t himself, that was important to Tom. “What of your friends?”

“Friends?” He repeated, mouth curving up as if I’d told him a joke. So I had been right - he really didn’t consider them as his friends, rather as people he could get something out of. “My _friends_ are not the same as family, are they?”

“I suppose not,” I managed, searching his eyes. If I tried it, how easy would it be to push through the heavily defended walls of _his_ mind? “We’re both alone then.”

“No we’re not alone,” Tom corrected, firmly. “We don’t have to be alone.”

He was easily in my mind once more, settling into it as if it was his home. Only, this time I took the chance to push back, to give a gentle nudge against him and found his walls easily melting away. I didn’t dare look at anything, withdrawing as far into my own mind as I could. It was a privilege only I would be granted - to look into his mind, but I didn’t have it in me, not yet. Instead, I was left recovering from the realisation of what he was offering me, just how wholehearted and unrestrained he was in giving himself to me. I breathed out shakily at the truth of it all - to have someone as my own when I’d never had _anything_ as my own before was heady in the strangest way. 

“All you have to do,” Tom continued, his words as enchanting as spell, “is keep up your end of the bargain, my love.” 

* * *

Upon beginning my dalliance with Riddle, I knew that it was only inevitable that we would, at some point, be caught. Given the number of students within the walls of the school and the constant surveillance of staff, there was no other outcome. We could only ever be caught - it was just a question of what we would be caught doing. 

Not that we were ever caught _doing_ anything. When we _were_ caught, it was in the process of walking back to the common room after yet another failed attempt. Even in the face of my failures, Tom remained insistent that I would eventually get it. He claimed that I had been making some progress, that day by day it got harder for him to enter my mind. However, I wasn’t certain that I believed him. How could it be taking him more effort when it seemed like he entered my mind just as easily as he had the first time? Each time was just as unnerving as the first, with him getting to know me far more intimately than I’d ever hoped for a person to. But it was something I needed to accept, and I was slowly getting used to it. 

I was content with the slow progress, even if there were eyes on us as the student body contemplated how the golden head boy could possibly choose a girl who had already been with multiple men. Even if I’d had no choice in it. Upon being spied, it was worse. Of course, we had been spied on our exit from the classroom by prefects who were supposed to be doing their rounds. Tom who was quick to berate them for patrolling this part of the castle at such a late time in the night, managed to control the situation by pinning the wrongdoing on the prefect pair by demanding to know what had held them up that they were only _now_ walking past this corridor when they should have already done so much earlier in the evening. I had an inkling that he’d timed it perfectly, that we were only supposed to begin our secret meetings after the corridor had been patrolled. Silently, I’d hung back and not said a word, already knowing that I was on the receiving end of curious and judging eyes. 

It was no surprise when, the next morning, rumours had already begun to circulate around the school about illicit meetings between the Head Boy and his fiancee. It seemed, overnight, that the rumour mill had made up an engagement that did not exist because it was the only way they could rationalise their ever respectful head boy losing himself in a girl in such a way. After all, we could only be celebrating an engagement - what else could have been going on? 

There were eyes trained on me once more and I wanted nothing more than to hide away from those eyes, to retreat back to my dorm room and to pull the curtains shut around my bed. Then again, being in my dorm would only make me suffer through the nosy questioning of my dorm mates who only seemed to speak to me about Tom, wanting to know everything about him. Perhaps I would have forsaken my dorm room for somewhere more private had it not been for the persistent pressure of an invisible hand at the small of my back. It wasn’t there and yet, I could feel it as if Tom was right at my side, urging me along. 

If he _were_ here, his head would be bowed to match my own as I tried to escape eyesight with a confident murmur that demanded, “How can you be made to feel worthless by people who are so beneath you?”

Or, perhaps, now that I stood before the entrance to Dippet’s office, he would be at my side, not even touching me. He’d be resting against the wall, watching me with a knowing look as I thought over and over the conversation I was likely to share with my guardian. Imagining him in either way had me straightening my shoulders and approaching the gargoyle and announcing the password. 

Walking up the stairs to Dippet’s office, I found my guardian waiting for me with a pleasant smile. I almost didn’t know what to think - he certainly did not look like the disappointed guardian of a young girl who had been caught roaming around with a boy under the cover of darkness. Although did Dippet have any right to be disappointed, in any case? 

When he silently gestured to the chair across from his desk, I took it and waited for Dippet to complete whatever tasks he had left. Collating the parchment he had been consulting and setting them on one side, Dippet clasped his hands together and pressed them to the desk. He considered me with yet another smile. I said nothing, waiting. 

“According to the students, young Mr Riddle has proposed?” he started, eyes flickering towards my hands. I knew it was in search of a ring and discreetly covered my left hand with my right - I had yet to discuss with Tom just how we were going to go forward with all of this. 

Dippet continued to wait for an answer and I hesitated, “I, we-”

Likely believing me to be bashful, Dippet waved his hand reassuringly. He spoke assuredly, “The pair of you make a good match.” 

When he said nothing further, and simply held my eyes, I had the worst possible impulse. If I failed, there would be no issue but if I succeeded and was caught, I would land in trouble. And yet, I shuffled forward to the front of my chair. 

“Do you really think so? I spoke to Tom last night and insisted that I could move no further without hearing your honest opinion of him,” the lie slipped from between my lips even as I held his eyes and gave a determined push. 

His mind, pliant and unguarded, parted easily and I was in. I didn’t let the euphoria of success swarm me. Instead, I was quick to listen to his thoughts - he believed we suited because we were both alone, that it was only natural we found comfort in one another. I withdrew before he could notice my presence and held back my smile; I couldn’t wait to tell Tom. 

“Tom is a good man,” Dippet assured me steadily, sounding exactly what I imagined a protective father figure sounded like whenever a daughter under his care was preparing to marry. “If you remain uncertain, I can speak to him to determine if you both are ready to marry. After all you have experienced, my dear, the last thing you require is to trust the wrong man.” 

“Thank you, Headmaster,” I said, finally letting myself give a pleased smile. Not that he’d know what I was actually pleased about. 

“Although,” he started, just as I stood to leave, “there must be no more sneaking around at night.”

“Of course.” I ducked my head bashfully, hoping I had him convinced. 

Issuing him with a final smile, I hurried out of the office and down the stairs. I walked, quickly but with what I hoped seemed like practised ease, in search of Tom. The last thing I needed was for a rumour to circulate that my legal guardian had branded me a scarlet whore or something of the sort. I rounded the corner, stumbling in my step when I ran right into a Professor.

Ducking down, I instantly helped them pick the papers that had scattered to the floor around us. Gathering the papers in a pile in my hand, I held them out towards the man who bent down before me, also to retrieve his papers. Just the sight of his eyes, obscured by his half-moon glasses had me pouring liquid metal into my spine, steeling it and assembling my mental walls around my mind. Tom didn’t trust Dumbledore. He never told me why, but he did not trust Dumbledore and insisted that I too treated the older man with mistrust.

“Miss Hitchens,” Professor Dumbledore said after having accepted the papers back from me. We straightened up as he offered me a small smile, “I believe congratulations may be due.” Like Dippet, his eyes flickered towards my left hand, finding my ring finger bare, “Perhaps I am too early then.”

“It would seem so Professor,” I said softly, thinking quickly of how to get out of this encounter.

“It is not too late then,” he said, catching my eyes and holding them. “You have not yet made a decision that you cannot get out of. It is best to think carefully before getting involved with anything so serious - sometimes, appearances can be deceptive.” 

“Appearances, Professor?” And I knew in the very next instance just what he meant Because appearances _had_ to be deceptive. No one would ever assume that Professor Dumbledore would attempt to use legilimency against a student but my defences were in place - though weak as they were, they held up long enough for me to feel the beginning of the attempt. It brought me enough time to avert my eyes before he could see a thing. Dumbledore might have been referring to Tom, yet he was the prime example of deceptive appearances. “Thank you for your concern, Professor, but I have to return to the common room.”

Even before he could give any sort of parting greeting, I was quick to rush away. I was no longer concerned about appearing at ease - instead, I let myself essentially run towards the common room. There was so much I needed to tell Tom; not only that I’d managed to peer into Dippet’s mind but that Dumbledore had attempted to use legilimency against me. Maybe I would bring up that Dippet intended to speak to him about his plans for us. But for now, I simply needed to return to the common room.

When I did make it to the common room, I found Tom sitting in his usual place before the fireplace, appearing to hold court and surrounded by his knights. Spying me, he ushered me over with a single hand and I was quickly summoned to his side. Settling down beside Tom, I kept my back straight and searched the faces of Tom’s not-friends. Even when Tom reached out a hand, resting it on top of the hands I had clutched in my lap, I didn’t relax.

I turned to look at Tom, feeling his eyes burn into the side of my face. He held my eyes, just long enough for me to brush against his mind - defenceless and open for me as he thought back to me - that this was my rightful place, that whatever happened, he would protect our family of two.

Left wordless and a little overwhelmed, I offered Tom a faint smile when he lifted my hand to kiss the back of it. For now, any thoughts of Dippet and Dumbledore could fade away, and I just needed to remain here, right beside Tom. 


	2. Epilogue: 9 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom, despite all the years we had been married, never understood my desire to handpick the ingredients I cooked our food with.

_9 YEARS LATER_

Tom, despite all the years we had been married, never understood my desire to handpick the ingredients I cooked our food with. He believed it was a waste of time for me to trek down to the weekly market to search through the fresh ingredients and yet when I attempted to rationalise that it was just as important to handpick food ingredients as it was to pick potions ingredients, he sent me away with an indulgent kiss. Only, today, when I had prepared to dress for my expedition out into the town, he had made no attempts to stop me as he usually, futilely tried. Tom claimed he had a visitor coming. It was only natural that I knew every visitor who was supposed to come to my home - it was just a small method of keeping control of my home environment and he’d allowed me that. But today, I had no such knowledge of who was scheduled to visit. I allowed it to pass, just this once and because I knew Tom would likely tell me everything at his earliest convenience.

Once my two bags were filled to the brim with fresh fruits and vegetables, it was time to return home. Reaching home, I spent some time just staring at the front door, not yet going in. Even without actually entering the room, I knew there was something wrong. Something was strange and for all the changes I’d made in the decade since I’d known Tom, there was always that hesitation that I’d never quite managed to shake. But - but the hesitation was something I would have to abandon. Soon, there would be changes in my life that would mean I could not be so scared. 

Squaring my shoulders, I walked towards the front door and opened it. Slowly turning the handle, I walked inside and shut the door carefully behind me. I listened out, holding my breath and putting the heavy shopping bags down by the front door. 

Dumbledore. 

It had been years since I’d heard that voice and yet, I knew it belonged to my old Professor. The same Professor who harboured ill intention towards Tom - and I knew why - but, just what was he doing here? Whatever reason he was here, it would not be good. I didn’t need to listen out to know that - the rapid pounding of my heart would be enough of a reason. Still, I listened out as I took slow steps towards the front room where the older man’s voice was coming from. 

Reaching the doorway, I remained hidden and ducked out of the way with my wand in my hand. Just in case. Holding my breath, I listened as Professor Dumbledore spoke, sounding apologetic and not, all at the same time. “It is wonderful that you are beginning a family of your own, Tom, but I can no longer turn a blind eye.”

Dumbledore’s wand was raised in a heartbeat, pointed straight to the chest of my husband who didn’t so much as bat an eye. Tom looked the picture of indifference, even as he stared our Professor right in the eye - did he know I was here? Did he even - 

“Ava-”

“ _Stupefy!”_ The spell left my mouth so suddenly, so harshly that the force of it had Professor Dumbledore flinging backwards into the wall. He crashed into it with such a heavy thud that I knew the neighbours would question the origin of the sound but I didn’t have it in me to be concerned about that. 

No, I was too busy being terrified of what I’d just done. I looked at my hands as they shook at my side - _what had I done?_ My wand slipped between lax fingers, tumbling to the floor as I turned, still shaking to face Tom who stood, just where he’d always been. Tom finally averted his eyes from the slumped Professor and looked at me. He was smiling - that gentle, soft smile that always calmed me so easily. Even now, despite the situation we were in, he was smiling. 

His smile didn’t fade. Not when he approached me, coming to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Drawing me into his side, Tom’s lips found purchase on my temple, his wand hand raised and aimed at our prone Professor. He murmured the killing spell, soft and resolute, against my skin. Merlin, I could feel him still smiling against my skin. 

I didn’t dare look any longer, to watch the spell work. Screwing my eyes shut, I turned into Tom and burrowed my head into the crook of his neck. I took deep breaths, drawing in his comforting scent through my nose and using it to calm the harsh beating of my heart. It worked all too easily. 

Tom gave a soft call of my name, one that had me drawing away so I could get a look into his face. Dropping his head, Tom gave a lingering kiss to my lips. 

“I’m proud of you,” he assured me, voice steady as if he hadn’t just _killed_ a man in our front room. I knew Dumbledore wasn’t the first and yet, it was the first I had ever witnessed with my own eyes. For some reason, I couldn’t stop shaking. 

“You did what you had to do,” he reminded me.

I shook my head, insisting, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tom took my shoulders in firm hands, gently easing me around so I faced our Professor. Swallowing down my bile, I turned my head away, unable to look. Even when Tom spoke, his lips by my ears, “If Professor Dumbledore had succeeded in killing me, there was nothing stopping him from coming after our son. You were just protecting our family and I’m so _proud_ of you. You stopped someone from harming and taking advantage of our child.”

Breathing out shakily, I turned into Tom again, unwilling to look at Dumbledore even as I allowed his words to warm me from the inside out. Tom was right - I had done the right thing and protected our child. No one would be harming him and I would do everything I could do ensure that. Splaying a greedy hand over my stomach, Tom gave me yet another open-mouthed kiss. 

Parting from him, I turned into his chest and felt Tom’s arms come around me. His lips met my hairline and I felt more than heard him murmur the words, “I love you with all my heart.” 


End file.
